


This is a Gift (It Comes With a Price)

by Rainbowrites



Series: A Very Glee Hogwarts [1]
Category: Glee, Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Gen, Harry Potter Fusion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-15
Updated: 2012-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-31 05:52:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/340647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainbowrites/pseuds/Rainbowrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a Sorting Hat decides your fate for the next 7 years in mere moments.</p><p>Thirteen stories about what happened under the Sorting Hat</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is a Gift (It Comes With a Price)

**Author's Note:**

> This started after I read someone complaining that Kurt's usually in Slytherin in HP/Glee fusion fics, when his bravery/kindnes/intelligence completely overrule his ambition. When I started thinking about it, I realized I could see him in any house (although obviously I chose one, I think that if the sorting had been done a few years later it might have been a different call. Basically deciding a kid's fate at eleven is just silly) and starting writing to help rationalize a decision. And then I just had to do every one else too xD for fairness's sake, obviously.
> 
> Title inspired by Rabbit Heart (Raise it Up) by Florence + the Machine. Go listen, she's amazing <3
> 
> Unbetaed, any mistake are my own (how do you find a beta anyway?)

"Abrams, Artie."

Professor McGonagall had to awkwardly move the stool aside so Artie could roll up after she calls his name. Which made him wonder, for what had to be the five billionth time, what use magic was if it couldn’t heal _anything_. It’s not even like it had been a a dark curse or a poison so old and evil the cure had been lost to the centuries. That would have been cool at least. But no, it was a car crash. Something happened every day, to muggles _and_ wizards. And the Healers had just shaken their heads and said that even with magic, people didn’t know enough about the brain and the spinal chord to work miracles. It was so stupid. Magic _was_ miracles. Or at least, it was supposed to be.

When the hat flopped down over his glasses, Artie hoped the hat would just tell him to go home. He’d only had the wheelchair for a few weeks; so using it without his dad to push him around has exhausted him. Plus, who the hell thought it was a good idea to make the first years get in a _boat_ to get to the school? He’d honestly thought he was going to die the entire trip, even if with Hagrid keeping one huge hand on his chair. He just wanted to go home and lie in bed all day. Screw magic. It couldn’t do anything useful anyway.

‘Magic can do a great many things Abrams.

Artie snorted as hard he could. For a second he was afraid he got snot on the hat before he remembered he didn’t care.

‘But unfortunately there are places even it cannot go. Yet. Perhaps you will be the one to stretch the boundaries of magic even further? You have it in you boy, don’t forget that.’

He recognized dully that the hat shouted RAVENCLAW. The table to his right went nuts. He was the first one; his dad had told him that the first kid to be sorted was supposed to be sign of luck or something. He wanted to laugh but his throat seized up. Lucky.

Instead he just pulled the hat off his head, slowly so as not to dislodge his glasses, and wheeled himself to the end of the Ravenclaw table.

Artie’s suddenly knocked out of self-loathing memories of being nine and promising his mom that he’d follow her into Ravenclaw when someone plunked a Star Wars pin in front of him. A skinny Asian boy smiled nervously at him, and pointed to the corresponding pin on the collar of Artie’s robes. He felt his lips curve into a smile in spite of himself.

\--

"Anderson, Blaine"

The second the hat touched his curls he heard a quick, ‘ah, no question here’ and then HUFFLEPUFF was suddenly reverberating around him. He sat there, stunned, until Professor McGonagall finally took the hat off his head and prodded him gently until he managed to move. Blaine walked to the Hufflepuff table in a daze, not even registering all the back slaps and hair ruffles he got after he sat down.

All he could see was the disappointment in his Slytherin father’s eyes when he’d found out Cooper was in Ravenclaw. Blaine didn’t even know what he’d see in his father’s face when he found out his son was a Poof. It’s only the years of of practice at wearing a fixed smile for his parents’ dinner parties that kept him from just putting his head down and crying.

\--

"Berry, Rachel"

Rachel explained spiritedly to the hat for a good five minutes about why she belonged in Slytherin, although most of that time was spent telling the hat exactly how big a star she was going to be someday. It had kept telling her that Gryffindor would be an excellent choice for her, but she knew she was brave. Rachel had known that ever since Samantha Johnson in Grade Three had called her a freak for liking animal print sweaters and singing everyday, but then told her if she’d stop she could sit at the cool kids table for a day. She’d come to school the next day in a kitten sweater and a skirt with peacocks on it and sang ‘You Are My Sunshine’ at the top of her lungs.

Rachel didn’t need people to help her be brave enough to be a freak. She’d know what she was, and what she would _be_ , since she was three years old and saw the Oscars for the first time. What she needed was people who would see the fact that freak, once they’re all past the tiresome adolescent stage, really means _star_. Everyone knew that Slytherins were the ones who ran the world. She needed to get to know the people who would help make her a star one-day. And as soon as possible! It was never too early to network after all.

Finally, the hat gave a long-suffering sigh. Rachel was impressed at such dramatic ability in a piece of cloth, and made a note to find out if there were any other talking hats out there. She could do an amazing duet with her hat, and then she wouldn’t have to share the stage with another person!

The hat grumbled something about how the house _did_ suit her and shouted SLYTHERIN with rather less enthusiasm than he’d done with the previous students. Rachel tried to start to tell him about the importance of professionalism at all times, but the hat literally leapt off her head into Professor McGonagall’s hands.

Rachel just sniffed and flounced off the Slytherin table, where she immediately started introducing herself to her table mates as, “Rachel Berry, future star.”

\--

"Chang, Michael"

Mike sat down on the stool, glad to finally be sitting down. His dad had told him that he’d hit his growth spurt soon, but until then it made the back of his neck prickle to be so much tinier than everyone else. Especially the girls. Mike supposed he should be glad he doesn’t have glasses at least. He’d seen the Ravenclaw table was mostly Asian kids, quite a few of whom wore glasses. He wasn’t an idiot; which was precisely why he knew where he was going to go. Plus, there was the fact that he was eleven and knows words like precisely and whom. 

The hat hummed around him, reminding him of all the times he’d sat on the washing machine at his muggle grandmother’s house. Mike wondered if the hat knew about that, and if that was why it did it. Did it usually try to calm down kids? He’d known what to expect, but what about muggle-born kids like his dad? Were they scared?

Had his dad been scared, sitting here?

‘Oh, I imagine everyone sitting down on this stool was more or less afraid Mr. Chang. It’s a heavy decision to place upon my shoulders, for all that I have none.’

Mike tried not to think about asking the hat to tell him if it remembered what his dad was thinking when he was sitting here.

‘I’m sure if you looked deep enough into your mind you could figure that out. I see it all you know. It’s all right here, in your head.’

He tried not to let his stomach drop out. So he and his dad thought alike. That was good. His dad was amazing, and worked so hard to take care of him and their family. Mike was proud to be like his dad. He’d always known he’d follow his dad into the Department of International Magical Cooperation. He was just like his dad. Mike was proud of that. He was.

‘You can’t hide who you are from _me_ Mr. Chang, or have you forgotten that I can see inside your head?

‘You know where you belong boy, but remember. You belong there because of what’s in _your_ head, not what’s in your father’s.’

Mike tried not to snark that if they’re thinking the same things what’s the difference anyway? But it was hard when he couldn’t just keep his mouth shut to stay quiet.

‘It was our choices that define us, Mr. Chang, not our blood. Remember that.’

RAVENCLAW echoed around the hall, and Mike smiled shakily as he walked towards what he was already calling ‘the Asian table’ in his head. 

\--

"Cohen-Chang, Tina"

Tina asked the hat quietly, even in her own head, if it could please just put her in Ravenclaw, because she knew that she wasn’t brave or ambitious but she knew she was smart and could work hard. She’d seen coming in that the table with all the blue ties had an over abundance of Asian kids. And the boy right before her had been a Ravenclaw too, as well as being Asian. She’d just be another Asian Ravenclaw, keep her head down and then get a job somewhere in the Ministry of Magic.

For a second she could see herself standing on a stage, belting her heart out, clad in brilliant scarlets and golds, as clearly as if the hat had put it there. Maybe it had. It could talk, who knew what else it could do?

Tina’s heart seized up and she nearly forgot to breath. For one painful moment she ached with want. But she shook herself quickly, freezing the image in her mind and folding it up to hide it like the treasure it was.

She asked for Ravenclaw again.

‘You belong in Ravenclaw Cohen-Chang, but not for the reasons you think you do’ was all she hears before RAVENCLAW was ringing in her ears.

Tina pulled off the hat as quickly as she could and scurried off the Ravenclaw table, not looking up from the ground the entire way.

\--

"Evans, Samuel"

The hat couldn’t quite seem to make up its mind between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, and Sam was doing all he could to keep the indecision going. He thought about how much he loved reading his magical text books, finding out that the stories that he’d devoured since toddlerhood were _real_. How much he wanted to learn everything there was to know about this amazing world that was magical in every sense of the word. Sam was already vibrating in his seat at the idea of sitting in the library and reading books that could tell him how to do _anything!_

Then he filled his head with thoughts of his family and how he already knows he’d do anything for them. Sam remembered how everyone in Grade Two had refused to eat lunch with Kevin Johnson when they found out he’d doodled a heart around the name of their very male Spanish teacher. So Sam had sat with him and traded half his tuna salad sandwich for Kevin’s baloney sandwich everyday, even though he didn’t really like baloney. How Kevin had cried the first day and Sam had given him his chocolate muffin, even though they were his favorite, to try and get him to stop. So any time after that, when one of them was feeling down, the other would buy him a chocolate muffin. Sam had sworn Kevin to secrecy and shown him the letter, so Kevin would know that he hadn’t been abandoned when he showed up at school in September. Kevin hadn’t spoken to him for weeks after, he was so furious at Sam for being magical while he wasn’t only gay but a muggle. But he’d shown up with a chocolate muffin a week before term started, and they’d cooed over the owl, Chewbacca (or Chewy for short), that his dad had bought him. Kevin had brightened up immediately when he’d realized that this meant he’d be getting letters by _owl_.

Sam bit the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning, and started reminiscing about how he’d read every one of his school books _twice_ weeks before term had even started. And loved every minute of it.

Hey, he had a _talking hat that **read minds**_ sitting on his head. He was going to keep it going for as long as he could.

He was bitterly disappointed when the hat finally decided on HUFFLEPUFF, but cheered up when the hat told him that it spent all year in Dumbledore’s office and would always be available for a chat if he wanted it.

Sam tripped over the stool getting up because he was trying to keep the hat on for as long as possible. But he couldn’t even care that he’d made a huge fool of himself in front of literally the entire school. He was a _wizard_ , at a school for _magic_ How awesome was that?!?

‘Totally awesome’ the hat agreed, and Sam laughed as he gave it one last fond pat before handing it off to the next student in line.

\--

"Fabray, Lucy"

The hat didn’t fall all the way down over her eyes like it did on all the other first years. It got stuck between her coke bottle glasses and her (fat, protruding) brow. The hall was silent, but Lucy knew that they were all giggling inside the privacy of their own minds. Or sneering and hoping that this fat, ugly girl didn’t get put into _their_ house. She yanked the hat over her eyes, nearly losing her glasses in the process. Unfortunately they managed to stay on. 

‘Lucy Caboosey eh?’

Lucy curled her hands into the stool so she didn’t grab the nail scissors in the make up purse her mom had shoved into her robes at the last second. Instead she thought viciously of the pile of rags the hat would make if she did. 

‘Quite a temper you have there young Fabray. And what an imaginative mind as well. I think I know just where you belong, don’t you?’

She did. People looked at her and just saw some ugly, fat girl but she knew that she was more than that. And now this hat knew it too. She was going to make sure that every single person in this school knew it before she left. Lucy had started researching the moment she’d first found out magic was real. There were spells to straighten hair, get rid of pimples, straighten teeth… She knew how smart she was, she knew she could learn them all and more. And where she was going to she would learn how to control people as surely as she’d control her own body.

She stood up a fraction of a second before the hat shouted SLYTHERIN.

Lucy didn’t smile; she knew her teeth were crooked. But not for long. Inside her mind she gloated, and started building the girl she knew she really was. Blonde, slim, beautiful, _popular_.

She barely noticed the people on either side of her greeting her. She was going to rule this school.

A pretty Latina girl sat down across from her, and gave her a condescending smile. Lucy recognized it as the same faintly disgusted look her mother gave her whenever they went clothes shopping together with her (blonde, beautiful, slim, popular) sister.

Lucy made up her mind in a split second. This girls thought she was Mother Teresa, aiding the lepers? Fine then. She smiled back, as shy and sweet as she could. This girl would be the first to see just how powerful Lucy Quinn Fabray could be.

\--

"Hudson, Finn"

Finn thought he should be pissed off at how fast the hat went ‘not Ravenclaw,’ but he kind of already knew that he was pretty dumb. It was okay, he knew that he’s always tried to be a good guy and if nothing else that’ll get him a place in Hufflepuff. He didn’t really expect to go anywhere else anyway, and asked the hat if it’s true that the Hufflepuff dorms are right next to the kitchens.

The hat confirmed the rumors and Finn was drooling so much at the idea of all those midnight snacks that he totally missed what the hat said after. Something about being a man?

All of a sudden he was blinking because whoa, those candles looked way brighter when you were just under a hat and in the dark. Finn started to head toward the Hufflepuff table, but the roar of laughter stopped him. He looked around, totally confused, because the guys in green ties at the table next to him were sneering about ‘typical idiotic Gryffindors’ and everyone else seemed to find his confusion just the funniest thing ever.

He stood there awkwardly until the teacher (McDonaldgall?) finally took pity on him and pointed him toward the Gryffindor table.

Finn walked there in a daze. His dad had been a Gryffindor. He could feel himself standing straighter with every step, and even at eleven he was pretty tall so it was kind of big deal. His dad was tall too. He sat down with a huge smile, and didn’t even care that all the people around him were still laughing at him.

He was going to be Gryffindor, be a hero, just like his dad. 

\--

"Hummel, Kurt"

Kurt knew that if he could speak he would protest, loudly, having to put on a frumpy old hat that _millions_ s of previous Hogwarts students had had on their germy, possibly louse-ridden heads. As it was, he couldn’t even bemoan how it’d ruin the coif he’d spent hours learning how to perfect before leaving home. He’d wanted to look amazing, and without the benefit of his clothes he hadn’t really had many options other than his hair. His dad had told him he’d buy him some eye shadow when they were looking at robes in Diagon Alley, but Kurt was pretty sure he’d been joking. Besides, the shade of purple his dad had picked up had been just tacky, and would have made him look like he’d walked into a door. The silver liquid eyeliner had looked more promising, but he'd known better than to point that out to his dad. Shopping had been awkward enough what with Kurt wanting to look at women's dress robes instead of the tacky options in the men's corner, even though his dad kept saying that there was no need for first years to buy dress robes anyway. Please. There was always a need for fashion.

Kurt heard a low chuckle rumbling around him and nearly tore the hat from his head and ran from the hall, shrieking. He was certain that if his legs hadn’t been blocks of marble he would have.

‘Quite a sharp brain we have here… interesting, interesting. You would thrive in Ravenclaw you know.”

His mother was a Ravenclaw. He remembered how she’d always worn something blue, even if it was just a ribbon in her hair. His dad used to joke that if she was that loyal to her house maybe she should have been in Hufflepuff with him instead.

Not Ravenclaw. He didn’t think he could wear the blue tie everyday without going insane. It was three years ago, but he still woke up wondering when he was going to stop missing his mom. He was kind of terrified of the day he did. Still, there was no need to be masochistic.

‘Hmmm, not Ravenclaw you say?’

Kurt nearly wet himself when he realized that the hat could apparently read his mind. He immediately started thinking of all the things he hoped he wasn’t thinking about before and had to start singing loudly in his head to drown out the images of how water had pooled in Finn Hudson’s clavicles when he’d fallen into the lake on the way to Hogwarts.

There was that low chuckle again. Kurt wondered if he should be offended.

‘So much ambition and cunning… so much intelligence… so much strength and courage… and ahhh, so much love…

Dear me this was a difficult decision isn’t it?’

Kurt knew that the things the hat was saying were technically good things, were actually huge compliments, but right now all he could hear was ‘wrong, wrong, wrong, you don’t belong anywhere.’ 

He was five years old and watching a man on the muggle TV say that being gay was a mental illness and a crime against humanity and realizing, _he’s talking about me_.

‘You could be great you know.’

The sudden reminder of where he was nearly shocked Kurt off the stool.

‘You have the courage for Gryffindor, boy, and the heart for Hufflepuff, but that’s not where you belong, was it? Above all else, you are a survivor.’

Kurt suddenly knew where he’s going to go, and for a second he wanted to beg the hat to reconsider. He tried not to imagine the disappointment in his Hufflepuff father’s eyes and failed.

But he just swallowed and jerked his head up defiantly, painfully aware of how stupid the move probably looked while his head was engulfed in an old hat.

Kurt’s always known that he’s going to make something of himself; that he would be one of the greats. Little boys would have posters of him in their room one day, and he would do what ever it took to make that happen. He refused to resign himself to the obscurity of Hufflepuff or the faint idiocy that stuck to every Gryffindor like a misplaced badge of honor. He was going to be _great_.

‘It’s almost a pity. You would have made Helga proud. Remember that, young Hummel. A man is more than just one thing, and a truly great man is more than just the sum of his parts.’

Before Kurt could ask what that meant, he could hear SLYTHERIN booming through the cavernous room and the replying thunder of applause from his left. As he stood up, all his numb brain could come up with was: ‘at least silver goes with my skin tone.’

He thought he could hear the echo of a chuckle.

\--

"Jones, Mercedes"

Mercedes was trying not to be paranoid, but the hat seemed to be taking way longer with her than it did with any of the others. The last person to take this long had been that super pale kid, Hummel, and he’d gone to Slytherin. Probably spent the time begging the hat to change its mind. Not that she blamed him; if the hat tried to put her in that black magic dungeon she’d just march her way back home.

‘Not Slytherin eh? Perhaps you should reconsider. Slytherin would suit you, and could help you on your way to greatness.’

She’d been expecting the voice, her older sister had warned her about it on the train, but actually hearing it still made her jump. Plus. It had just told her she should try out Slytherin. Oh _hell_ no. She was Mercedes Jones; she’d make _herself_ f a star. She fingered the battered scarlet tie her dad had given her for luck before she left. She didn’t need any of that back stabbing, slimy snakeyness to help her get there.

‘Well. If you’re sure. Better be…’

HUFFLEPUFF rang in her ears like a slap. Hufflepuff. The house for kids that no other house wanted. A tiny part of her said that she had been the one to reject Slytherin. Mercedes tried her best to ignore it, and put on her biggest smile as she walked over the Hufflepuff table. If she was at Hufflepuff because she rejected Slytherin, didn’t that just mean that she’d really belonged with those snakes? No, no, she was a Hufflepuff. Loyal, sweet, hardworking - those were all good things. Great things. She smiled at the first girls she saw at the table. They looked sweet. She could do this.

Sinking into a seat next to the girls, Mercedes comforted herself with the thought that at least now she could wear as much leopard print as she wanted. 

\--

"Lopez, Santana"

The hat wasn’t on her head for more than a second before it pronounced her a SLYTHERIN.

The sheer speed of it almost made Santana want to cry. She knew that she was going to end up in Slytherin, hell she was proud of it. She was a stone cold bitch from Lima Heights Adjacent, and Slytherin was where she belonged. She’d rule this school one day. But for a second, just a second, she had hoped that the hat would see something in her. _Something_ other than the angry bitch that she knew she was. Anything.

(Her dad had told her to strive for Ravenclaw the last time she’d seen him, before he left to go to back to a wife who could actually do magic and lived on the right side of the tracks, and a part of her had hoped…)

But no. There was nothing to make the hat pause because there was nothing inside her but a black hole where a heart should be and a brain just itching to unleash years of dark curses learned at the knee of a powerful abuela burdened with a squib of a daughter. Santana stalked over to the Slytherin table and fixed her best ‘I will tear your insides out with a single curse, and enjoy it’ smile on her face.

She locked eyes with a fat blonde girl and could feel herself start to salivate at how easy it would be to tear this ugly, friendless girl apart. Instead she smiled, so sugary sweet that she nearly made herself vomit. The girl looked appropriately nervous.

“Hi, I’m Santana” She reached over and touched the other girl’s hand reassuringly.

Destroying this girl right now would be far too easy, and too nice, for how vicious Santana was feeling. Tearing this girl down after she finally started to trust that someone actually likes her? Now _that_ was the kind of pain she was looking for.

That hat thought that she was such a huge Slytherin that it didn’t even take a _second_ to consider anything else? Okay, fine. Then she was going to be the best damn Slytherin this school had ever seen. She would _rule_ the Slytherins. And this girl would be her first conquered nation.

\--

"Pierce, Brittany"

Brittany asked the hat if he had a pair of talking socks to make conversation with if he got lonely. The hat didn’t say anything back, but she heard HUFFLEPUFF and then the cat teacher was taking the hat off her head. She petted it, but only for a second so that Mr. Tubbington, her new familiar, wouldn’t get jealous, and promised to bring him some talking socks if she found any. Or once she made some. She was pretty sure she could do that. That’s what magic was for right? Making friends and talking socks.

Professor Cat gave her a strange look when she mentioned how awesome talking socks were as she walked to the bumblebee table. Probably because she was amazed at how awesome Brittany was for realizing in 30 seconds that the hat needed a pair of talking socks when she’d been with the hat for years. She smiled at her so that she wouldn’t feel too bad for not being as awesome and smart as Brittany was.

\--

"Puckerman, Noah"

The hat got about 20 seconds into a speech about how he was at a crossroads before Puck cut him off and just told him to put him in Slytherin already. He was only eleven, but that was old enough to know what a fuck up was, and to know that he was one. Like father like son right?

He was an asshole, and he was going to own it. He would be the biggest, baddest Slytherin that anyone’s ever seen. Except, you know, not a death eater or a murderer or anything.

He was swaggering off to the Slytherin table before the sounds of SLYTHERIN finished echoing through the hall.

**Author's Note:**

> I could honestly see Kurt in any house. He gave up his dream song/role for his dad/Blaine = Hufflepuff. He's obviously really smart and hardworking = Ravenclaw. He's incredibly brave, like to an insane degree = Gryffindor. But at the end of the day, I think an eleven-year-old Kurt would want to be in Slytherin, the place that he thinks will help him the most. Plus, remember how when Kurt was younger (season 1) and tricked Rachel into dressing like a slut to get rid of the competition, and then manipulated Burt's and Carole's feelings to get closer to Finn? Pretttyyy Slytherin, and it all worked out. Slytherins aren't bad, they just want control, and to survive. And I think that's Kurt all over. Besides, as we saw in the actual HP world, just because someone's in Slytherin that doesn't mean they can't be incredibly loving and brave, just like how someone from Gryffindor can be manipulative.
> 
> I would love to hear why you agree or disagree with me! The idea of housing people is fascinating to me :3
> 
> Oh, and yes, the skinny asian guy was supposed to be Mike. He's a year ahead of Artie in canon, so he would have already been sorted even though Artie was the first that year. Basically, the kids are in alphabetical order, but the canon ages and what that means apply. Except for Blaine, since I'm choosing to believe that he's the same age as Kurt, but had to repeat a year after transferring to Dalton.


End file.
